


Corpse Party

by secretlyryanross



Category: Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, Fearless Vampire Killers (Band), My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, The Academy Is...
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Blood and Gore, Gabe Saporta as a teacher, M/M, Mikey Way is a literal child in this just to let you know, Murder, Patrick is cranky and it's only bc he has a huge crush on Pete just fyi, but not really any relationships, fvk are my guilty pleasure in this idec, i mean who can blame them their friends are being killed who has time for relationships, lots of flirting, though if there were relationships the ones stated would be that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-04-28 15:54:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5096477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretlyryanross/pseuds/secretlyryanross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not everyday that you and your friends accidentally do a ritual to get you trapped in the deadliest elementary school to date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Friends Forever.

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is not at all following the original character outlay of Corpse Party, not one little bit. Not only have I added more characters (just for my enjoyment and hopefully the enjoyment of others), but I’ve mixed and blended personalities, too. (i.e: Ayumi tells the story at the beginning and Satoshi is the one with the little sister, but in this I decided that Gerard would take on both of those plot lines!) Just try to sit back and enjoy and don’t stress yourself on trying to find out which character is which, please! Thank you.
> 
> Also, the beginning of this basically is straight from Corpse Party itself, but as it goes on it gets less game based and more of my own story-ish. It’s still following the main plot line, but it’s not following it line for line. If that were the case it’d take years to finish this story. Apologies if that was what you wanted. Hope you enjoy anyway, that is if you decide to read. This disclaimer has been too long. Are you even still reading this?

It was a rainy night in the city of Chicago, Illinois, one like many others. The grounds were muddy, puddles forming everywhere you turned. The sight was chilling to the bone, it made many want to cuddle up under a blanket and drink hot chocolate by the dozen. It was on that very, dreary night in the big city that a group of teenagers were huddled around a candle in a lone classroom. Way after school bells had been rang and even after the detentions had been let out, a story echos down the hall, a low voice narrating it.

“It was a rainy evening after school, much like this one.” The voice starts, coming from a raven haired boy whose face was lit in the candlelight. “Running down the stairs, the kindly teacher lost her footing,” He smirks, looking around at the other boys who were also crowded around the candle, “She tumbled, and she fell, and she died.” His eyes display a morbid sense of excitement.

“You’ve all heard the stories, no?” He continues, “Before Pencey Preparatory was built here there was another school built on this property.” There’s a long pause and as the boy looks around he examines the faces of his friends. They all seem thoroughly interested, some frightened just by how creepy he was being. 

“Heavenly Host Elementary School, it was called.” He finally says, saying it in the lowest voice he could muster, “Such a horrible thing to happen…” A pause, “The principal was completely devastated. He cared for the school almost as if it were his own child, you see.” The boy now sounds timid, but there’s a fire that burns brighter than the candle in his eyes. It was obvious he lived for telling stories such as these.

“But one thing led to another after the incident…and ultimately, a decision was reached. The school was to be shut down.” A gasp is emitted from the boys’ audience, only causing him to smile. “The principal was so stricken with grief over losing his child that,” Another pause for effect, “On the day of its closure he climbed up to its roof,” With spindly fingers, he reaches up and makes a gesture of walking up stairs, “and threw himself to his death!” 

There’s an obvious shuffle of bodies, a gasp, and then silence as they waited for their friend to continue. “Or so the story goes.” The boy shrugs and looks content with himself as he sits back and smiles. “People thought Heavenly Host was cursed, you see. This was just the latest of many deaths to occur there. That’s why it was torn down…” There’s a lull in his story, his eyes travelling to the side as if he was apprehensive. 

“However!” He starts suddenly, causing a blonde headed boy nearest to him to jump. “They say the teacher who fell down the stairs has no idea she’s dead, even to this very day.” He says, “And on rainy evenings like this, after our school day’s come to an end…” Most of the people in the darkened classroom look thoroughly frightened, some holding on to each other for support. 

“...Some claim she roams these darkened hallways...still believing them to be her own.” The boys’ hair falls into his face as he says the last part, dragging each word out as much as he could. He laughs slightly, looking down and putting a finger just under his chin, “In fact, it’s almost time for her to make her rounds. Just after seven o’clock.” He looks around, narrowing his eyes at the door, “That’s when she appears, always accompanied by a sudden black out that leaves the entire building dark as night.” His eyes flick back to his group of friends in a fast movement.

“‘Knock, knock,’” The boy knocks on the floor below him, “you’ll here from the blackness. Followed by the sound of the classroom door sssslowly ssssliding open…” There’s a giggle that escapes from his mouth, an unnerving one, “As her pale white face cuts through the stillness, her soft voice always echoes the same question: is anyone still here? Then-” 

He’s cut off as a loud crash of thunder echoes through the room, the lights switching off simultaneously. There’s a yell from another boy in the back, long and full of fright. You can barely see the raven-haired boy's smile in the candlelight.

The same boy that yelled speaks up, his face and his black hair that was styled into a pompadour noticeable in the light of the candle, “It’s…a blackout!” He points out the obvious, worry lines creasing his forehead. 

Another boy comes up to him, the blonde boy from earlier, comes up to the boy and scolds him, “Pete! Pull yourself together! Don’t scare us like that!”

“But,” The boy, Pete, whines, “It was scary, Patrick!” 

The storyteller frowns, interjecting himself into the conversation, “Mmm, I don’t like this. This shouldn’t be happening.” This stirs someone else who are scared out of their wits from the other side of the classroom. The walk over with a smirk on their face, clapping.

“Nice one, Way, You had me for a minute.” It’s another boy with raven hair, though he’s shorter than the storyteller, who would have prefered to have been called Gerard.

“It wasn’t me, Iero! I’ve been standing her this whole time, how could it have been? This is a real black out.” Gerard retorts, narrowing his eyes and stepping closer to the infuriating boy.

Iero, or Frank, just huffs and steps away from Gerard, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. Suddenly another boy stands up, red bangs hiding most of his face out of view.

“Um,” He sounds hesitant, “Does anyone else...hear that?” The question is vague, but there’s definitely a sound coming from somewhere. The red heads best friend stands up, coughs, and then nods.

“I do, Kier, it sounds like it’s coming from the music room.” Another dark haired boy, but this one has obvious eyeshadow around his eyes and his thicker than the other two, but not by much. His name, you would find out was Laurence.

“No way…” Kier mutters to Laurence and, just as he does, Gerard says the same thing. First the blackout and now the door...That could only mean one thing. 

Pete lets out a low noise, obviously terrified, falling forward in fear. Patrick startles, screwing his face up in annoyance. 

“What the hell is wrong with you, Wentz?! Get ahold of yourself!” He grunts, trying to push the boy off of him, “...a-and get off me! Your heads against my di-” Pete cuts Patrick off by falling backwards. 

“Ah, sorry! Sorry, sorry! I’m so sorry, Patrick! I couldn’t see where I was falling, and, and-” Patrick cuts Pete off this time.

“Put a sock in it, Wentz.” The red tint to his cheeks is barely visible, but it’s enough for Pete to feel embarrassed by the situation himself. Just then the noise gets louder, causing the whole classroom to startle once again. There’s a panicked silence that ensues and only is broken by a boy with a pompadour much like Pete’s, but thinner and less pinned down. 

“I told you guys we shouldn’t have stayed here so late, didn’t I!” He’s biting his bottom lip, holding onto a lanky, brown haired boy who looks almost bored of everything. He obviously didn’t get scared easily. 

“Shut up, Brendon.” The bored boy montones, then he looks as if he’s thought of something, “Actually, B, aren’t you gonna get the door?” There’s a sadistic smile on his face now. 

“W-what?” Brendon mutters, eyes wide. 

“You’re so brave, B, so aren’t you gonna get the door? For me?” Now there seems to be some life in this boys eyes. 

“Uh, sure, Ryan. You’re brave, too, though...so, um, why don’t you get it?” Brendon offers, a sheepish smile on his face. He’s let go of Ryan’s arm now, so Ryan lifts it up and puts his hand on Brendon’s shoulder.

“I’m not as brave as you are, Bren.” That whole sentence sounded as cocky as Ryan could possibly have made it, but Brendon doesn’t hear it. He just smiles up at Ryan and nods determinedly. 

Brendon snakes around some people, heading towards the door. Ryan feels a tap on his shoulder, turns around to see that his friend Shane is looking at him disapprovingly. 

“That was cold, man.” Shane says, shaking his head and sighing. Ryan just smirks and turns back around. He fucking loved doing shit like this to Brendon. 

Once Brendon reaches the door he pauses. After a moment he reaches for the handle, but is startled back from it when he hears an eerie voice from the other side of the door. 

“Is anyone still here…?” The voice asks, “Go home, children.” It draws out and not even a second later Brendon is basically pushed back from where he was standing as the door is yanked open. He lands hard on his tailbone, causing all the wind in his body to leave him as he hits the floor. 

Instead of some creepy, ghostly being walking in the door, however, it was just their teacher, Mr. Saporta. Brendon could practically hear the screams of joy from wherever the hell his friend William was standing in the back. Mr. Saporta starts cackling, bending over and wiping tears from his eyes as he does so. 

Once he calmed down, the teacher looks around at the shocked and angry faces of his students, “Did I scare you?” 

Brendon sits up, grimacing at the soreness in his bottom, “Mr. Saporta?!” He asks, his shoulders slumping as he look behind himself and at his classmates. 

William steps forward, a lanky, curly haired brunette who had a fedora sat atop his head, one that wasn’t his much to Patrick’s dismay, “Hey, teach.” He practically purrs, a smirk on his face. Almost everyone in the room makes a face, save from Ryan who really wasn’t even paying attention anymore. 

“Beckett!” Mr. Saporta smiles, nodding at the boy. Pete was pretty sure that if it wasn’t illegal in the state of Illinois (and probably in the state of everywhere else, too) to date your teacher, then William and Mr. Saporta would’ve already had at least 3 kids and two mortgages flat. Though, Frank had bet that they’d have 4 kids, a dog, and their own garden by now, but that was a little too much in Pete’s opinion. 

Though, that was beside the point right now. Gerard was laughing as he walked up to Mr. Saporta, giving him a high five and a cheeky smile. “I’d call that a success, if I do say so myself.” Gerard remarks, smirking at all his friends as he says so. 

“We’ve been had!” Kier and Laurence shriek, frowns visible on their faces now that Mr. Saporta has clicked the lights back on. 

“Your timing couldn’t have been more perfect, Mr. Saporta!” Gerard laughs giddily, clapping his hands together and throwing his head back. Mr. Saporta smiles at Gerard, obviously not seeing anything wrong in the harmless prank.

“Well, not too long ago I was a student here. I remember all the legends and wives tales, though they were a little more tame in my days as a student.” The teacher shrugs, but looks around at the room of students. In the corner was Kier laughing at Brendon, exclaiming that his reaction was ‘priceless’ and ‘should’ve been filmed, dammit.’

“Language, Mr. Kemp.” Mr. Saporta directs that towards Kier, and although they aren’t at school, Kier acts as if the police just caught him stealing something. 

“Sorry.” He rubs his neck sheepishly, looking at Laurence in vain attempt to have the teacher off his back. 

“Anyway, Gerard,” Mr. Saporta turns back to the pale boy, “I found a little something waiting in the hall for you.” On that cue, the teacher turns around and ushers a little boy with dirty blonde hair and square glasses in. He goes up to about Mr. Saporta’s waist and is holding a soaking wet umbrella between tiny fingers.

“Gee!” The little boy is quick to latch onto his brother, a wide smile spreading across his face.

“Mikey, what in the world are you doing here?” Gerard bends down, looking his little brother in the eyes, “Did you walk here all by yourself?”

“Uh huh!” Mikey nods, “Mommy told me to bring you your umbrella, because you forgot it.” The little boy shakes the umbrella, tiny droplets of water flinging themselves onto his glasses and into Gerard’s hair. 

“Aw, thanks.” He takes the umbrella, leaning it against the side of a stray desk. His knees pop as he stand back up, taking Mikey’s tiny hand in his own larger one. He gets ready to introduce him to his friends, but before he can there’s a hurricane of Drew Woolnough in his face. 

“Why didn’t you say you had a brother, he’s so cute!” Drew resembles a crazed mother as he mucks about, pinching Mikey’s cheeks and altogether grinning at him with the widest smile he could manage. Gerard just giggles, rolling his eyes at the short boy and shushing him away from his younger brother, who actually looks like he’s enjoying the attention. 

“Come on, Wooly.” Drew is dragged away by none other than Kier, which is strange, considering that would normally be Shane. Although, with one glance in Shane’s direction, it’s obvious that he’s preoccupied with a panda sitting on top of him, the panda being Laurence. 

After another couple moments of chitter chatter, the attention is called back to Gerard as he shushes the crowd, even gaining Mr. Saporta’s attention. “Guys, guys, gather around again, please.” Everyone does as told, ears listening intently in the silent room. The rain pounds against the ground outside, creating a gloomy atmosphere. 

“Now, we all know why we’re here today, after all. Not just to muck around and have a good time,” Gerard sighs, locking his eyes with Kier’s. Just a couple of months ago Kier had been the happiest he’d ever been, his parents were settled, and his house finally felt like a home. Then his dad's job moved again, much to everyone’s misfortune. Now in two days he was moving basically across country and it broke everyone in the rooms heart. 

“Kier, we’re here for you, sort of a going away party,” Gerard smiles sadly. Shane speaks up, teary eyes making him sound choked up.

“You’re my best friend! You shouldn’t be moving, it’s wrong!” He cries, tears finally slipping from his eyes. Kier looks in about the same condition, looking at all of his friends that he’s made over the two years he’d been in the city. 

“Guys, don’t get all teary yet!” Gerard pipes up again, diverting all the attention back onto him. The light made his complexion look almost orange, his eyes sincere. “I have something we can do to be best friends forever. All of us!” He practically giggles in glee.

“Oh, no, not another one of those creepy ritual things.” Frank groans, rolling his eyes and glaring at Gerard from exact opposite of the lopsided circle they’d created. Gerard glares back. 

“For your information, it isn’t creepy. Here,” Gerard suddenly turns around, reaching for his bag that lay strewn across a desk, fiddling around inside until he pulled out a piece of paper fashioned to look like a doll of sorts. The edges were slightly bent from his bag, but the paper was crisp and white, clasped tightly between two of Gerard’s fingers. 

“It’s paper?” Kier questions, not looking like he’s cheered up much. If this was Gerard’s idea of a gift, then Kier really didn’t want to see what else he had in his bag. 

“Magical...paper!” Gerard sticks his tongue out, rolling his eyes. Conversations start to arise again, causing a slight ruckus in the classroom. Gerard quickly puts a stop to this, “Come on, guys, listen.”

“Everybody take an edge, any edge.” Gerard held the head, sticking his arm out invitingly for anyone to grab ahold. Everyone is hesitant at first, knowing just how much trouble the storyteller normally got himself into because of these things. Nonetheless, everyone but Frank and Ryan grab it anyway. 

“Come on, Ry.” Brendon nudges his friend with his free elbow, giving him a pleading face. Ryan sighs deeply, looking as if he didn’t want to be there exactly. No one really knew how Ryan became a part of their friend group, something to do with Brendon meeting him and forever never being able to shut up about him, probably. No one could see why Brendon liked him so much, seeing as all Ryan did was pester Brendon and be as rude as possible to all his friends. 

“Whatever.” Ryan shrugs, grabbing a space next to Brendon. Frank still stood defiantly, arms crossed over his chest, nose upturned. Gerard just looked at him, annoyed expression on his face. This was for Kier, couldn’t Frank see that it could be the last time Kier could speak to any of them. Though, Gerard know that isn’t true, but it upsets him nonetheless. 

“Frank…” Kier speaks up before Gerard has the chance to, surprising him slightly. Frank also looks slightly surprised, looking at the short red head. “Come on, friends forever.” He frowns deeply, lines creasing his upper brow. Frank looks guiltily at the paper doll before he gives in, eyes meeting Gerard’s as he does. Gerard understands that Frank’s fingers clamping down onto the doll had nothing to him, but everything to do with the sad puppy that Kier was. 

“Now, how many of us is there?” Gerard uses his free hand to count hands, dotting his finger in the air over each of his friends. One, two, three...thirteen, christ. No wonder it was such a tight fit. 

“Now, there’s something we chant...thirteen times, unfortunately, but those are the circumstances.” Gerard looks sheepishly over his friends, “We must say ‘Sachiko, we beg of you’ thirteen times. No more no less, no screw ups. That’s final.” Gerard gives his best look of authority. “After that you pull as hard as you can until you tear a small piece of paper off and that symbolises our friendship. Put it in your student ID’s, your wallets, whatever. Just do not lose it.”

“B-but, Gee, what if we mess up?” Mikey asks from down somewhere near Gerard’s hip. The older of the two looks down, lips pressed into a thin line, but eyes reassuring Mikey. 

“We won’t.” He says sternly, giving Mikey an encouraging smile, and then looking back at his friends. “On three, guys.” Gerard begins to count slowly and by the time he hits three everyone bursts into a chorus of ‘Sachiko, we beg of you.’ 

The thunder outside growls, lightning flashing outside the window and the rain pouring down just a little harder, sounding like hail against the rooftops of the neighboring buildings at houses. As for the school, all the students could hear was the rain hitting the glass of the window. The students inside all cheer in glee, each holding a tiny scrap of paper with huge smiles on their faces. Kier had happy tears in his eyes as everyone tucked their paper away respectively.

“I’m seriously going to miss you guys...so much.” Kier sniffles, leaning into Laurence for comfort. Laurence wraps an arm around the smaller boy, rubbing his shoulder affectionately. This causes Brendon to practically fall over as he yells, “Group hug!” Kier laughs as the bunch of wrap him in their embrace, barely aware of the bright light that practically blinds him. He looks up, squinting slightly, barely able to see Mr. Saporta smiling wholeheartedly, a digital camera in his hands.

“Guys, I love you all too, but someone absolutely reeks of B.O.” Kier laughs, pushing them all away awkwardly. There’s a bunch of awkward laughs and loud shrieks of suspects, when suddenly the ground starts to hum in a small vibration. Kier looks down in confusion, smile still on his face. The vibrations getting a lot more violent very fastly, causing Kier to lose his balance and to be sent spiralling forward.

“Earthquake!” He hears someone yell, but as soon as they do the ground being to fall away. This isn’t any normal earthquake, Kier thinks. Before he can think anything else, he’s being sent flying across the floor, shirt riding up as he’s pushed by an invisible force. He’s being pushed straight into one of the many, forming holes in the floor, screaming for his friends as he does so. 

“Kier!” It’s Laurence who calls out, scrabbling to reach his friend before he’s sent plummeting to what everyone would assume his death. He manages to catch his hand, but not before he’s sent into the darkness of the hole. Laurence screams as he’s taken down with him, then he see’s black. 

The rest of the students are a mess, screaming and attempting to stay away from the massive holes littering the floor, panic settled into each other their stomachs, tears being squeezed from their eyes. A loud boom of thunder cuts into the room, the ground finally shaking so violently that it sends the entire room into the dark pits of nothingness. Though on initial look, that is true, but so much more lies behind them. So, so much more, they’d come to find out.


	2. Squelch.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard wakes up and isn't happy about it.

The scent of warm, hazelnut coffee fills Gerard’s nose, his favorite. A happy smile stretches itself onto his features, his eyes crinkling at the corner. His mom must have made it this morning, but it wasn’t a special occasion. He quickly checks over in his head. Not Mikey’s birthday, of course not, not his birthday, heavens no, that isn’t for another few months. It wasn’t Christmas, Thanksgiving was never celebrated with his favorite coffee, and Halloween was out of the question, too. His brow furrows, wondering just what the occasion might be. 

He decides to open his eyes and to trot downstairs to see exactly why his mother was making coffee, even if it would cause her to be mad at him. He was sure that he wasn’t missing any super important holiday, though he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure. As he opens his eyes he expected to be met with the dark grey walls of his room and his frayed Smashing Pumpkins poster that he’s had for nearly 5 years and ongoing. Instead he’s met with the sight of a dusty, cracked wooden floorboard and multiple, busted and broken needles lying almost directly next to his head, the medicine that was inside long evaporated. 

He sits up quickly, backing away from the needles with a flourish. His heart is racing and he looks around, wondering just where the hell he was. He looked to be in some sort of infirmary, two cots lying side by side with multiple layers of dust over them. There are a couple of large, wooden medicine cabinets on the other side of the room from those, filled to the brim with different sorts of medicines that, upon closer inspection, are wrapped thickly in greasy, black hairs. 

The corners of the room are filled with cobwebs and spiderwebs, red eyed spiders scurrying to make their homes bigger, though they were already humongous. Gerard coughs, eyes watering and lungs aching. He must’ve inhaled some dust and of course that means it got into his eyes and nose, as well. His ribs ache and his head is spinning, almost as if he’d fallen from a tall place. He blinks, memory flashing with events. 

They were at the school, he was telling ghost stories. Mr. Saporta came in, grinning like a fool, and William had flirted with him with absolutely no shame. Kier was crying...but then Gerard had cheered him up. He had cheered him up with the Sachiko Ever After charm. 

Gerard smiles at the memory, but then quickly remembers what came afterwards. An earthquake and...the floor. “It fell apart.” Gerard whispers, eyes fixated on the many cracks in the wooden boards below him. His swallows thickly, immediately coughing afterwards in regret. No doubt he’d be doing that for a couple of hours, if not days. Bringing his hand up to tangle in his hair, something he always does when he’s anxious, he immediately regrets it as his hand meets something sticky in substance. 

He pulls his fingers back, barely being able to see the crimson that stains his fingers in the pale lighting of the room, panic running through his chest as he squints at it. He blinks, once, twice, three times, but he can still feel the tears coming on. Any smell of hazelnut coffee is gone, really never having been there, now that Gerard thinks about it. He can feel his tears dropping down his cheeks, falling to the floor and mixing with the thick layer of dust. What was going on?

His throat was dry as all hell and crying didn’t make it any better, but he couldn’t help it. He shakily looks around the room once more, deciding to check for any other wounds before leaving the infirmary room. He was here, so he might as well as see if he can help himself any. Some painkillers would really do the trick right now. So he shakily puts a hand down on the floor, weakly pushing himself up and standing on shaky legs. 

He walks over to one of the cabinets, pulling on it, but it doesn’t budge. The handles are laced with the same, thick black hair that wraps around every other bottle of gone off medicine in the cabinets. He sighs, looking at the next cabinet, finding that this one was free of the black hair, but on the shelves lay only one thing. A pair of scissors. Gerard’s stomach curls as he peers down at them, the blades of the scissors both covered liberally in dried, cakey blood.

There’s one more shelf he can look at and a small ounce of hope fills him as he sees painkillers, rubbing alcohols, and tonics lining the shelves. Though, as he goes to open it, it won’t budge either, seemingly glued shut. He lets out a frustrated grunt, turning around to face the cots that are pushed together against the wall. They seem as though they haven’t been touched in years, pillows neatly set and sheets to match. It very unsettling to Gerard, he decides, frowning down at the beds.

Looking around the room once more, Gerard discovers a sink just behind the spot where he was sitting, he can only tell because of the Gerard shaped hole he left in the dust from where he once lay. He walks over to it, grateful to see the tap. He turns the handle, the last hope in him diminishing when nothing comes out. His stomach lurches as he sees the same black hair that plagued this whole damn place clogging the drain, sopping wet and moldy from years of sitting. He struggles to keep down his lunch, admittedly. 

The building is notably old, not just by the obvious. There’s an odd hum of sorts to the building, one that reminded Gerard of touching a fridge that was defrosting. It was creaky and, though it seemed to be settled, had an odd feeling of sinking to him. There was no silence, nothing to set Gerard on edge, but he still felt his nerves spike up anytime he found himself having to turn around, as if something were behind him every time. There’s something not right about this place, but he doesn’t think he can place just what that is. 

Another thing in the room, other than the hair filled cabinets, the dusty cots, and the faulty sink, was a large, wooden desk. It had two drawers located on the right side, if you’re facing it, and a chair that was neatly placed in front of it. There was an old, damaged journal sat atop it, as well as a lamp that Gerard doubted worked, and a couple of books stacked in the corner. He walks over to it, eyes looking at the open journal before him.

There’s nothing on the open page and as Gerard goes to turn it to look for more information about where he was, he finds that the journal is more like a model, pages unturnable and seemingly super glued together. He attempts to pick it up, but to no avail, it was like it was molded to the desk. His fingers then reach out to the lamp, flipping the switch with no luck. There was no power. He turns around, frowning deeply at the room that hasn’t helped him in the slightest. 

The only other thing left in the room, now, was an old, ashy furnace. It would no longer work, meaning it was no use to Gerard, but as he walked up to it he noticed something beside it, something that sparked an idea in his mind. He looks at the square object beside it, picking it up and examining it. It was a box of matches, with, to Gerard’s surprise, quite a few inside it. He pats his pockets, quickly thanking the lord as he reaches in and takes out one of his miniature candles.

He’d brought them to the school for the occasion of the ghost stories, which was the smartest idea he thinks he’s ever had. He sits the candle down, taking out a match and quickly striking it down. The fire roars to life and is warm against his fingers as he lights the candle, quickly blowing it out afterwards. He sits the used match aside, closing his eyes at the warmth radiating from the candle. He stays like that for a few seconds before standing up and looking around the room once more. His eyes land on the door at the opposite end of the room.

In determination, Gerard marches over over to the small, white, wooden door, deciding that the first thing he was going to do was find out where his friends were. They had to be here too, though how they would’ve been found in another room definitely made no sense to Gerard. He settles his pale, shaking hands on the door handle, giving the knob a shake to see if it’s locked, and is actually shocked when it turns all the way. He doesn’t know why he’s taking so long to just open the door, but his body physically won’t bring itself to do it. 

“Come on, Gerard, if there’s anyone else in this,” He pauses, furrowing his eyebrows. What exactly was this place? “In this...place,” He coughs, interrupting himself, “then you’ll need to find them.” He definitely still had multiple injuries, most minor, but he needed to find his friends and get to a hospital as soon as possible. Which meant he needed to open this door. Still, with his hand wrapped tightly around the knob, he can’t bring himself to open it. 

“Dammit!” He exclaims, letting go of it and bringing his hands up to wipe at his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. He needed out of here, but he was too fucking frightened of what could be lurking outside to open the damn door! He lets out another frustrated grunt, this time at himself. Turning back to the door and looking at it with disgust, he puts his hand back on the handle, turning it until he hears a click. ‘Come on, Gerard, you’re supposed to be the one who’s not scared of paranormal crap,’ He thinks, closing his eyes as he drags his arm back slowly. 

The door was open to the full extent it could go with Gerard’s hand still wrapped tightly onto the handle. He opens his eyes quickly, coming face to face with...a hallway. ‘That’s sort of melodramatic,’ Gerard thinks, frowning at the hall. At one end of the all there appears to be a staircase going down, whereas at the other end of the hall there’s a sharp turn, leaving Gerard wondering about what is down both ends. 

He strolls out carefully, looking down at the floor beneath his feet. It was in shambles, certain pieces of pale purple floorboard completely gone, fallen through the floor as if they were never there in the first place. In certain places the gaps were wider, restricting any access to to that area. Gerard has trouble swallowing as he imagines himself tripping and falling through one of the many gaps. As he feels tears starting to swell in his eyes once again, he looks back up, chewing on his lip as he attempts to decide which direction he wanted to go.

The stairs seemed the safer bet to Gerard for some reason, though he couldn’t deny the strange urge that dragged his eyes towards the other option. He lets out a shaky breath, wrapping his arms around himself as a habit, but immediately wincing at the tenderness in his ribs. He didn’t know what to do and in that moment he wished that one of his friends were there to help him decide, though he knew they weren’t and he doubted one would just come strolling up the stairs at any second. 

‘Maybe that urge means that someone will be down that way…’ Gerard considers, bringing a hand up to chew on his nails. His school uniform was lined with the dust from the infirmary, wrinkles littering it. The white button up that he had on was stained with the blood from his head at the collar, the black blazer doing nothing to cover that. The pins that he normally kept on the pocket of the blazer had come off somewhere unbeknownst to him and his tie was mucked up from the fall.

‘You’re a mess, Gerard,’ He tells himself, sighing. There was another spark inside him, however, ‘Don’t give up, though.’ Raising his eyebrows and setting his jaw into place, he decides to go for the sharp turn route, his head held high as he does so. He’s not sure what’s gotten into him, but maybe it was for the better. He had to find his friends and, more importantly, he had to find his brother. 

As he makes his way down the hallway, footsteps loud and clunky against the thin boarding, dodging the holes in them, a scent of iron fills his nostrils. It’s harsh, metallic smell making Gerard cringe. He continues on his trail, though faltering a bit, the smell getting more rotten and foul as he goes further down the hall. As he gets to the turn he almost can’t stand it anymore, the smell of rotten meat and...and blood being too overbearing. 

Then he screams. As he rounds the corner he takes note of a large, chunky splatter of blood on the wall, and what looks like gone off hamburger laying in a puddle of blood. He gags as he looks down at it, stepping just a bit further on accident, causing him to step in it. It makes a loud squelching sound, which is successful in making Gerard lose anything he had in his stomach prior. He turns away quickly, vomiting in the corner almost out of courtesy. To what? He didn’t know.

He groans, looking down at the sickly colored puke. He scurries to get away from the scene, carefully dodging the rest of the bloody mess as he attempts to flee. As he sprints up the rest of the hallway, ignoring the flies he can still see swarming, he turns a corner and comes face to face with the one person he despises the most and the one person he cares for the most both sniveling as they look down at a dead corpse. 

Fuck.


	3. Splinters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kier's POV.

Kier’s first thought when he came to was that he was cold. Colder than he had ever been before, colder than the chilliest Chicago winter. It felt like someone was injecting ice into his veins, like a brainfreeze all over. He didn’t like it one bit. 

 

He opens his eyes in alarm, blinking rapidly at the dimly lit room before him. He was laying on his side on a rotting wooden floor, one of his arms going numb underneath him. He could barely see a thing as he sat up, rubbing his eyes, and wincing at the pins and needles that were starting to form in his numb arm. What had happened?

 

“H-” Kier chokes on his own voice, coughing loudly and bringing a hand up to his chest. His head was throbbing violently and his throat felt like he’d been having another one of those screaming contests he always had with Laurence. He shivers slightly, wrapping his arms around himself and looking around for his best friend, or even just his friends. No one was in the room that he could tell, and it was making it hard for Kier to hold back tears. 

 

Unbeknownst to a lot of people that know Kier, he hated being alone, or feeling alone. Especially in situations where he didn’t know where he was or what he was doing. So the utter silence and darkness of the room was almost terrifying to him. 

 

He tries again to call for help, “Hello?” His voice is scratchy and sore, but it doesn’t stop him from continuing, “Laurence? ...Shane? Drew? Someone, please?” He tries again and after waiting a few moments with no response he gives up. 

 

The tears flow freely down his face, his eyelids a broken dam and his tears the fresh saltwater that could no longer be held back. He brings his legs up to his chest, squeezing them tight and ignoring the pain he felt all over. His whole body felt like one big bruise and his violent shivers and wracked sobs weren’t helping the matter. 

 

“P-please, I-I don’t wanna b-be a-a-alone!” Kier cries out, his red fringe falling into his eyes as he throws his fists down onto the hardwood floor. Dust flies up into the air from the force of it, getting into Kier’s eyes and throat. He coughs again, attempting to scurry away from the particles. His back hits a wall and so does his already throbbing head, causing Kier to wail out in pain.

 

“Why do you whine?” A voice breaks him from his fit, causing him to look up. His tears cause the figure in front of him to blur slightly, but it’s unmistakeable. A light blue figure stands in front of him, or more so floats in front of him. She could be mistaken for an actual little girl if she wasn’t so...strange looking. Once Kier’s eyes clear up, he notices that she has on a regular elementary school uniform, which reminds Kier of the ones that they’d wear back home. Her hair was hung in low pigtails, but all of this was miniscule to the main attraction of her. 

 

On her face she had a button nose and thin lips that were formed into a creepy smile. Her eyes, however, were what made Kier want to recoil in fear. Where her left eye should be there was a gaping hole, black blood oozing out of it down her cheeks and onto her shoulder. Her other eye was dark, almost black in color, with the whites shining brighter than any humans ever could be. 

 

Kier lets out a scream, pushing himself up against the wall even further, hot tears beginning to fill his eyes again. 

 

“Why do you whine!” She asks again, moving in closer to Kier. Her expression seems to darken and Kier tries to hide his face. 

 

“You’re not real, g-go away!” He yells, his whole body shaking from the force of it. His previous tears had dried on his face, leaving smudges in the black makeup that surrounded his eyes. Now more were spilling over his eyelids, leaving even more smudges in their wake. 

 

It’s silent for a long while, unnerving Kier even more than before, and as he lifts his head he sees that the ghost has gone. He blinks, lips quivering as he looks around the room, waiting for the ghost to come back. It’s weird, he almost...misses having it there. Like it was trying to befriend him, make him less sad. 

 

_ No, ghosts are malicious. Right? That’s how Gerard’s stories always made them out to be… _

 

The room seems to be brighter now, and Kier spots the reason why. A candle, similar to the ones that Gerard always used to tell his scary stories, sits alight at the other side of the room, right next to one of the many gaps in the floor from where the floorboards fell through. 

 

“What?” Kier says to the nothing, gulping down air in an attempt to clear his throat. That wasn’t there before.  _ Perhaps the ghost left it? But it looks so much like Gerard’s, almost an exact match…  _

 

He decides to examine it further, but instead of standing up and walking over to it, he crawls to it, not trusting his legs enough to stand. They hurt so much, almost too much, and just crawling basically sucked the life out of him. 

 

When he reaches the candle, he immediately revels in it, letting out a content sigh, though it comes out as more of a whimper. He puts his hands over it, letting the heat warm them up. They’re visibly dirty, with grime under his nails, and blood seeping out of minor cuts. He can even see a few splinters from the cracking wooden floor. 

 

“G-Gerard?” Kier calls out, frowning slightly at how messed up his voice is. He wonders if it’d be like this forever, which wouldn’t be good for the band he was in with Laurence, Shane, and Drew.  _ That doesn’t matter anyway. You were moving and leaving them behind no matter what. The band was doomed from the moment your dad announced he got a new job, Kier.  _ With another frown, he cranes his neck to look around the room, finally taking in his surroundings. 

 

The windows in the room were fogged over, from what Kier could see, and they looked as though they were plastered shut, judging from the dried yellow substance squaring around each one. There was a door to Kier’s right that looked like it was in the same condition, with a cabinet standing tall in front of it. Even squinting Kier couldn’t see what was in it, as the room wasn’t bright enough and his vision was impaired from all the crying he had just done. 

 

Next to the cabinet there was what looked like a stage, but there was a chalk board behind it. In front of the stage sat an old, wooden podium, with dusted over pencils sitting askew on top. There was writing in chalk on the blackboard, but it was too small for Kier to see from where he was sitting. To his left there was nothing but a couple of holes in the floor and some mice scurrying around in the corner that looked like they hadn’t eaten in years.  _ How are they still alive?  _ Kier questions, shaking his head at the thought. 

 

“Kier?!” Kier’s head perks up. That was his name! It sounded like Laurence calling it, too. Maybe they just didn’t hear him earlier! It did sound far off, so maybe that was the truth. 

 

With all the strength that he can muster, Kier pushes himself up off the floor, wincing at the pain in his legs and the burning in his abdomen as he does so. Once he’s fully standing, he takes it upon himself to pop his fingers and his neck, along with any other bones that he feels need it. It barely helps to take any pain away, but he felt like it was needed. 

 

Before he goes to check for Laurence, he can’t help but let his interest get the best of him. On wobbly legs, he goes over to the blackboard, carefully taking steps in fear that the floor would fall through at any minute, like it had back in the classroom. 

 

_ Wait, what? How do I remember that? I barely remember anything from after the ‘Sachiko, we beg of you’ charm. So why that? I remember Laurence jumping after me and...and falling in with me. Oh, God, Laurence! I’m so, so sorry, Laur… _

 

Saddly, Kier looks at the blackboard, slowly taking in the scene on it. The image depicts a figure holding a pair of scissors, chasing after four smaller figures. Kier shivers, biting down on his tongue to keep from whimpering. The picture was eery, it held a strange energy to it, almost as if it were in another reality. He slowly steps away from it, but can’t bring himself to look away. It takes him another minute before he does so, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

 

“I need to find Laurence.” Kier says to no one, or really, he says to himself. There’s something that makes him want to stay in the quiet, dark room, but he can’t tell if it’s his fear of what could be lurking outside, or his fear that Laurence could be…

 

_ Don’t think about that, you know not to think like that! Laurence is fine… _

 

_ Or is he? _

 

“Dammit, come on!” Kier yells at himself, forcefully bringing his foot forward and charging to the small, wooden door, that was his exit to find Laurence. He knew that his best friend would be out there for him, he had to be. There was no way that he could be somewhere else, especially since he did fall into the hole with Kier afterall. It made no sense that he’d be somewhere else, it made no sense at all, now that Kier thinks about it. 

 

_ Is this the school’s basement? It sure doesn’t look like one. And that picture? What kind of sicko draws that kind of stuff, come on! How could I just fall through the floor like that and end up in another school, though? Maybe I slept walked here? No, it was raining, I’d be soaked.  _

 

Kier sighs, exasperated, “Nothing makes any sense!” Kier whines as he reaches the door, banging his head on it in frustration. “Nothing makes any sense and I’m fed up with it! I just need to find Laurence, he’ll know what’s going on!” Kier talks to himself, biting his lip once he realizes that he’s doing so. 

 

_ Nice job, being crazy there, Kemp. _

 

“Oh, shut it!” Kier says to his mind, biting down on his lip and attempting to remove the chapped skin from it. He reaches for the door handle, twisting it and pushing it open without thinking about it. He needed to find Laurence, it was his number one priority. 

 

Again without thinking about it, Kier takes an immediate left before looking around the corridor. It was very dimly lit, just like the room he was in, but there was a strange light source in it. Kier looked around, but there were no lights, so where was the light coming from? A shiver is sent down Kier’s back, reminding him that not everything in this ‘school’ made sense. 

 

In front of him stood a short walkway, an archway standing at the end of it with stairs leading up into another story of the school. The floorboard creaks below Kier’s feet, every step continuing to spike his anxiety up even further. He had two choices; continue walking up the stairs or turn around and wait for someone to find him, like the baby he is. So, with a shaky breath, Kier continues his path. 

 

The stairs groan as he steps on them, Kier’s hands gripping the rails tightly. He watches his feet carefully, hopeful that the stairs won’t collapse on him. The building around him felt rickety, like it was only standing on two broken legs. It wasn’t a good feeling that was overwhelming him. 

 

He reached a landing, the small spot between one set of stairs and the next, relieved to have simply made it through the first set. A small candle, the same as the one in the classroom, Kier notes, is sitting vacantly atop a thin layer of dust. Kier eyes it, stepping closer to it. The flame is out, unlike the other one, and no matches are around. So much for that.

 

A thin breeze blows past him, though no windows are open. Come to think of it, no windows were even around the landing. Maybe there was just a draft coming from upstairs, he thinks. 

 

_ But how does that make sense? _

 

It takes one look back down to the bottom of the stairs to realize that he doesn’t want to linger on the thought. Not after his encounter with the ghost back in the classroom. His legs still ached, muscles exhausted from even standing still. He needed to move, quickly, so he could find Laurence. 

 

If only it were that easy. 

 

Kier turns, hastily, to go up the short upcoming flight of stairs to be met with a pair of cold, dead eyes. Like a fish, he thinks. They’re unblinking, the person they belong to unmoving. It turns out to be a little boy, once Kier glances around. 

 

His body is blue, a faint glowing color just like the other little girl with the missing eye. This little boy seemed perfectly fine in comparison, a thin line of blood leading from his mouth down to his chin the only signs of any damage Kier can spot. Kier, however, was shaking from the fear of being directly in front of this ghastly figure.

 

“Wh-what do you w-want! I’ve g-got to find L-Laurence, please!” Kier steps back, knocking over the lone candle onto the floor, a loud clank resounding from it. The boy shows no signs of emotion, just opens his mouth to speak, but all Kier can hear is faint gurgles coming from within him. 

 

“Wh-?” Kier questions, a confused expression clouding his facial features. The boy tries again, to no avail. “Can you talk?” Kier’s accent is thick sounding to his own ears, a strange guilt forming inside of him. Was he feeling sorry for this...ghost? If that’s what he could even call it. Kier had a very hard time believing in such things. 

 

The ghost makes another gurgling noise, like he’s choking on his own blood. Kier flinches, wrapping one arm around himself and reaching the other forward. He was sure that it was a stupid idea, to attempt to make contact with the little ghost boy. But he couldn’t help but feel so sorry, so sad for them. He felt like they couldn’t have chose how they died, which only made Kier feel even worse. 

 

“It’s okay.” Kier says dejectedly, the hand he had raised not quite making it over to the blue boy, who’s still looking into Kier’s eyes. His eyes are hollow, no reflective surface and no emotion. It pained Kier to see. “It’s...okay.” Kier says again, shrugging. He lowers his arm, turning his head towards the ground. He watches as the boy hovers in the hair, feet not quite touching the ground.

 

The boy gurgles again, like he’s trying to tell Kier something. Kier looks back up to see what it is, stepping back in surprise when he sees the other ghost, the girl from earlier, standing there unabashed. 

 

“You don’t whine anymore…” She says, and it’s much more obvious that she’s floating than it is that the little boy is. They both look like elementary schoolers, the same age as his little brother is now. It pricks tears in Kier’s eyes. He hadn’t thought about his family and what him being missing could do to them. His brother hadn’t even eaten yet…

 

“No, I don’t.” Kier bites his lip. He tries so hard not to cry, not to let these ghosts, who have been through so much more than he has, see him cry. It’s difficult, but he manages it. 

 

The girl moves forward, closer to Kier, and he lets her. He doesn’t know if he’s scared of her or not, because honestly, he thinks he should be. But he also thinks that he isn’t. These children were exactly like him once, probably. Scared, alone. Now they were here. Kier thought that maybe they could be friends.

 

As he makes level eye contact with the girl and boy, his eyes flickering from both of them, he realizes that maybe that was the best thing to do in this situation. He just has to know how to do it.


	4. Grime.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan was a little overdramatic and he needed to learn to keep his mouth shut.
> 
> Gabe worried for the lives of his students in the mysterious facility.

Ryan, well...Ryan is okay. He’s fine, really. If you could define fine with waking up in an unfamiliar place. 

 

In his lifetime, Ryan had experienced a number of one night stands, sleepovers, and sleeping in the gym after school. So, at first, it wasn’t really  _ unfamiliar _ . It was just a little deterring, blinking open your eyelids to find dusty wooden floorboards and a dim room. His head pounded, as if he’d taken another beating from his dad and fell down the stairs. Again. But that was an  _ accident _ , it was an accident. 

 

He would just get up, find out where he was,  _ maybe _ , and leave. But his head did really hurt. 

 

“Where m’I?” He groans, sitting up with his forearm and elbow digging into the hard floor below him. His vision was blurry, from the daze of what Ryan would call the morning, though it wasn’t recognizable as any hour to him. Even though there were windows on the far side of the classroom, no sunlight or moonlight peeked in. A dull, brown paper looked as though it was covering the outside of them. 

 

“Ryan?” A voice speaks up behind him, causing him to crane his neck and blink blearily at the owner of the voice. 

 

_ Okay, I know some of my ‘stands are weird, but really? My teacher? And where the hell am I? ...Did I get raped? _

 

“Mr. Saporta?” Ryan croaks, voice scratchy and uneven in tone. His teacher stood a little ways away, school suit smeared with dust in splotches. He looked like hell, his once immaculate pompadour matted and lifeless. 

 

Mr. Saporta grins, a sigh of relief escaping his mouth. “I’m so glad you’re awake, I thought you were dead but I couldn’t…” Ryan furrows his eyebrows, making a move to stand up himself. Once he was practically eye level with his teacher, despite the distance, he mulls over what could have happened. 

 

_ Okay, so my ass doesn’t hurt...does his? I bet William would kill me if he found out that I… Did we even? I’m so confused. He says he thought I was- _

 

“Did we have sex?” Ryan blurts, blinking rapidly at himself. He didn’t mean for that to come out, but his mouth had different ideas. Mr. Saporta looks thoroughly surprised by this, mouth even dropping open a fraction of an inch. 

 

“Mr. Ross, I know we aren’t in...in my classroom, but I don’t like your language.” He starts, at first, then his facade drops and he looks sheepish. “But no, I don’t think so…” Ryan takes in a breath, his lungs aching in need of oxygen. He didn’t know why he held his breath like that, but it was such a relief. The answer and the filling of his lungs. 

 

“Well, where are we? Why is this place so...dingy.” Ryan asks in distaste, finally realizing the state of the place. Smashed floorboards, dusty surfaces, splintering wood, and filth covered windows. This didn’t look like your regular room. In fact, it almost looked like a strange form of...of a classroom. 

 

“I don’t know. I-” The teacher finally steps nearer to Ryan, his features more recognizable. Ryan takes note of the blood seeping from a cut near his cheek, but doesn’t say anything. “I think it’s a-”

 

“A classroom?” Ryan finishes it for him, turning around and walking on thin legs over to a single, wooden podium in the room. “Yeah, I thought so, too.” He runs his hands along the grimey surface, getting a dirt and dust mixture over the pads of his fingers and his palms. 

 

Gabe is quiet for a moment, watching Ryan, before he speaks again. “I’ve never seen this place before...it doesn’t even feel like we’re in Chicago. I don’t know how long we were both out, but I can’t even hear the rain hitting the window anymore.” Ryan pauses, eyes trained on the podium. Since when did Gabe start thinking out loud?

 

“Yeah,” Ryan says idly. He turns suddenly, a confused look drawing in at his eyebrows, “What even happened? With the floor...Kier a-and L-Laurence?” He clears his throat, not making eye contact with his teacher. He felt his throat closing up, but he’d be damned if he cried. It just...it didn’t look good.

 

“I don’t know.” All of a sudden Mr. Saporta has his hand on Ryan’s shoulder, for support, “I don’t even remember falling asleep...or passing out. I don’t remember anything after that.” Ryan continues to not maintain eye contact, his body stiff under the teacher’s touch. 

 

“I don’t know.” Ryan says pointlessly, not having anything to say to help the confusion they were both feeling. After a few beats, Gabe drops his grip, arm falling to his side. He heaves a sigh, turning away from the younger boy. 

 

“I’ll find out where we are.” Gabe says, “Then maybe we can get some closure.” 

 

“I’ll come with.” Ryan attempts, but Gabe shakes his head. Ryan’s eyes then focus in on his posture, which was almost defensive. 

 

“No, Ryan, you need to stay. I can’t let anything happen to you, you’re my student just as everyone else is. I need to find them and get you all to safety. It’s my promise to your parents as a teacher.” Mr. Saporta is firm, but not uncompassionate. He could understand why Ryan would want to come, but he didn’t think it was safe. Not with the state of the room they were standing in. 

 

Ryan seems to not care, protesting, “No! I should come with, I don’t give a shit about that teacher bullshit you’re trying to spew.” Ryan’s facial features are scrunched as he says so, chin directed upward in defiance. 

 

“Language! I  _ am  _ still your teacher, Mr. Ross! And you’re staying here.” Gabe doesn’t turn around, can’t bring himself to as he begins to walk towards where he spotted the door. It’s old and wooden, with a dull, rusted metal doorknob. 

 

“We aren’t in school anymore,  _ Gabe. _ ” Ryan jeers, gritting his teeth. “I can cuss all I fucking want and you can’t keep me from going!” Gabe thought Ryan was overreacting, possibly from fear, but he couldn’t tell without looking at the boy’s face.

 

With his hand on the doorknob, Gabe huffs, because Ryan was right. “You’re correct, but...please, just stay here. I am asking you -  _ as a person _ .” With that, Gabe turns the doorknob, having said all he needed to. Ryan would come if he pleased, Gabe couldn’t stop him.

 

“Wait!” Ryan desperately clings onto the word, biting down on his lip, “I won’t go. Please just…” Ryan thinks for a second, looking at Gabe’s back, “Come back.” 

 

Gabe turns his head, then, blinking back at Ryan with determination set behind his eyes, “I will.” He promises, nodding at the young boy. He couldn’t say for sure if he’d come back, but if it helped Ryan be affirmed that he was going to be okay, then so be it. 

 

“Okay.” At that, Ryan drops his eyes again, refocusing on the podium. His nails dig into the splintered wood, teeth bruising the skin behind his lip. Gabe stares, for a second, before sighing and opening the door. It opens with a loud creak, heard by any ears around, before Gabe walks through it, shutting it with a dull thud behind him. 

 

Ryan would be okay. Even if he’s alone, he should be fine. There doesn’t appear to be any imminent dangers inside the classroom, Gabe thinks, other than all the dust occupying the space. With one more blink, Gabe sets out to find his kids. 

  
“I need to find my students.” He says to himself, a ghost of a breath before he’s walking down the purple floored hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this is one of the weaker chapters I've done for this story. For that I apologize.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! If there are any errors please let me know so I can fix them as soon as possible! Also, thank you for reading, you're lovely. Comments are always great and I will reply to every single one you post if possible! xxx.


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